


Change

by Seasonal



Category: Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Because it's Fruits Basket, Canon Compliant, Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Haircuts, Manga Spoilers, Mayuko will never be free of Sohmas and that is fine, Some angst, ending spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasonal/pseuds/Seasonal
Summary: Mayuko Shiraki had very modest goals for the winter: deflect her mother’s every earnest attempt to learn about the status of her relationship with Hatori Sohma (“Still just friends, Mom!”), not eat a Christmas cake alone this year (and she was pretty sure her students were making bets, the brats) and dosomethingabout Hatori.
Relationships: Shiraki Mayuko/Sohma Hatori
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the Fruits Basket zine "Thank you, Furuba!" I was assigned Mayuko and given winter as a theme and I ran into the idea screaming all the way. Takes place during the time-skip in the last volume.

Mayuko Shiraki had very modest goals for the winter: deflect her mother’s every earnest attempt to learn about the status of her relationship with Hatori Sohma (“ _Still_ just friends, Mom!”), not eat a Christmas cake alone this year (and she was pretty sure her students were making bets, the brats) and do _something_ about Hatori.

“Something” ranged from “possibly confessing finally” to “ _not_ doing that because of the timing” to “at least supporting him somehow because of the timing”. But how exactly, she wondered, was she supposed to support him? Offer him a book recommendation? _Buy_ him a book? Grant him a restful day of guaranteed freedom from Ayame and Shigure-shaped interruptions?

The last idea had merit, but that would require from Mayuko one of two troublesome things. Either she involved herself with Shigure’s smugly smirking face (not pleasant), or she could bribe one of the Sohma kids to do something about this (equally unpleasant, and something she’d never willingly put a student through given the exasperation she’d seen Yuki wear in the presence of his ostentatious older brother).

Still, her options were limited, and not for lack of pondering. Even if she _did_ enlist any of the young Sohma students to help her, there was the problem of them not being aware of her relationship ( _friendship_ ) with Hatori and the amount of explaining that would require. She didn’t trust Shigure not to joyously sabotage any kind of diligent effort made, which meant it was better not to include him in any plans at all. Books were the coward’s way out. And if she so much as even considered inviting him to walk around town and look at the Christmas lights or to share a cake…

Mayuko couldn’t do it. The slightest romantic gesture could bump him right back into troubled memory territory, and even though Hatori had seemed more relaxed in the shoulders lately and had even sent an unprompted smile or several in her direction, Mayuko remembered.

She remembered spending just over an hour on the phone with Kana, her lips painfully tilted upwards in a fond smile as her friend talked about her work as Hatori’s assistant and wondered if it might be “too strange” to get him a present for Christmas (“Nothing special, of course!” came the quick, embarrassed yelp over the line). She remembered Kana apologetically bowing out of their yearly Christmas Commiseration of the Single because of “sudden plans,” knowing full well that she and Hatori had been dating for months now.

She remembered a week of unanswered calls, _demanding_ Shigure to help her sneak into the Sohma estate, of silent snowfall, impervious to the woman trembling with broken sobs in Mayuko’s arms. The last time Kana had called the man she loved “Hatori” — had _loved_ him — ever again.

If Mayuko could still recall all of that after more than three years, she was sure Hatori also had it tucked carefully away in his own memories, buried deep but with those tendrils of nostalgia ready to poke through at the slightest provocation.

Then, rather than risk unearthing those memories through gifts or asking to spend time with him during the most romantic holiday of the year… she would need to do something entirely different. Something that wouldn’t, even unintentionally, cause him pain.

Mayuko’s sigh sounded as weary as she felt when she ran a few fingers through her ponytail— and then she stopped, eyes widening.

Oh. That might work.

* * *

It was only just beginning to snow when Mayuko stepped outside, face turned towards a rapidly darkening sky. The wind brushed against the back of her neck, a playfully chilly caress; her shiver was annoyed and unappreciative. In her rush to follow through on an impulse - and oh, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d done something without thinking it through first and on even fewer fingers the number of times the impulse had nothing to do with Hatori Sohma - she’d forgotten the basics of winter wear.

Unlike Hatori, who likely still wore his trademark suit, but at least had that almost certain probability hidden beneath a thick-looking peacoat and a sensible navy blue scarf. His bangs had gotten longer again, equally bullied by the wind, but it (unfairly) did nothing to make him look any less attractive and—

Wait.

“Wait.”

Hatori, not a figment of her imagination and not at all put-off by the way Mayuko had just unintentionally thrust a palm out to ward him off, waited. His patience gave her enough time to take a deep, calming breath, lower her hand—and then instantly jerk it up once more to point at him as realization struck belatedly. The words tumbled loose, inanely.

“ _Wait_ — okay, I get it, you’re already waiting, never mind that— Hatori-kun, what are you _doing_ here??”

Damn him, the man could make even a puzzled tilt of the head look gorgeous. “I went to the bookstore to speak with you,” he began, “but your mother told me you were making some kind of dramatic life-changing choice and gave me the directions to… ah, I see now it was a hair salon.”

_Please tell me she wasn’t putting on the waterworks_ , Mayuko barely refrained from begging (mostly because she didn’t truly want to know the answer). Instead, her breath escaped her in a puff of vapor, an exasperated sigh.

“Really… sorry about that, Hatori-kun. You shouldn’t have had to come all this way just because my mom asked you to.”

Hatori’s smile was a tad crooked as he stepped closer, two fingers hooked into his scarf to loosen it. “You make it sound like it was some great feat on my end, Shiraki. I _did_ say I wanted to talk to you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but—” Mayuko’s train of thought immediately went off the rails and killed all the passengers, thanks to Hatori reaching out to settle the scarf around her shoulders. She was unhappily aware she was gaping at him, but no further excuses or protests came forward.

“You cut your hair.” To anyone unfamiliar with his nuances, it was a very matter-of-fact statement. Mayuko, however, caught the faintest hint of surprise in his tone; a victory, she thought, if nothing else.

_Finally_ , the words came back. “I thought it was time for a change. And if it didn’t turn out well, at least we’d have something to laugh about later.”

Hatori drew his hands back, an eyebrow angled skeptically. “Your sense of humor is as strange as ever. Do you really think a haircut is something to laugh over? Your reasoning isn’t something I’d find amusing, either. Just understandable.”

Stuck in the dilemma of being caught staring at his face for too long (and the way the snow was slowly but steadily piling on his head and dampening his bangs), Mayuko did her utmost not to merely bury her face in the softness of the scarf. It smelled faintly like laundry detergent, she noted— not romantic at all, nor anything like what most books spent half a page detailing… and all the more precious for it. 

Still, she couldn’t just stand there subtly inhaling a man’s scarf on a wintry December evening. Nearly cringing at the grossness of that mental image, Mayuko dragged forth the words she’d worked so hard to obtain in the first place. “Yeah? You were sick of the ponytail too, Hatori-kun?”

“That’s not what I meant.” With a graceful kind of nonchalance, Hatori tucked one hand into his coat pocket. The other remained out, for a reason she’d yet to be enlightened on. “I just also agree… that it’s good to welcome change. Even if you don’t quite know what lies before you. Even if you don’t know if you’ll regret what you let go of.”

Mayuko wanted to laugh, a little frantically, just to try and lighten this strange thickness in the air. What he had stated was perfectly applicable to the simple act of hacking her hair off (with the assistance of a paid professional), but there was a lingering weight to his words. As though he knew exactly what else had the potential to change and what she was so afraid of letting go of.

She had been so determined to protect the happiness of her best friend. She had distanced herself while remaining close. Every affectionate gesture between Kana and Hatori had made longing well up within her; each and every time, Mayuko had ruthlessly shoved that feeling down with a simple thought of _good. Get even further from my reach. Become impossible for me_.

In the end, it had shattered, slipped through Kana’s blindly grasping fingers and no matter how desperately Mayuko clutched her friend close, she couldn’t rescue it either. 

So what right did she have now? She could (with great effort) ignore Shigure’s goading, her mother’s wheedling, Ayame’s clamoring to shove her into “something worthy of sparking romance in Tori-san’s austere heart”. But even with all of the years that had passed, knowing all she did, Mayuko couldn’t bring herself to be the one to try and bring Hatori the happiness he had once had with Kana. Frankly, it felt too arrogant of her.

“You’ve given me an abundance of grief regarding how uptight I appear to be,” Hatori continued— and Mayu gave a start when his gloved hand brushed against her cheek. “But it seems to me that the one who’s been shouldering more than their fair share is you. You really _do_ put other people first. As a doctor, I should point out that doing such a thing in excess is unhealthy. You’ll age more quickly.”

Mayuko snorted, trying not to think about the presence of his hand and very much failing. “Saying something like that to a woman is probably why you’re still single, you know.”

Hatori blinked, mildly. “Among other reasons. But I’m hoping to change that before we stay out here too long.”

When Mayuko continued to stare, aware but uncomprehending, his expression shifted towards pensive. “... Ah, that was too subtle. Then… Mayu.”

“H-Hatori-kun.”

“You cried for me. You cared for me. I feel like I can relax around you, and you’d make me if I didn’t. And if I’m right, you’re still trying to protect me. So, I’m well aware that this is late, but I would like to date you. No, your mother did not put me up to this.”

The cold was hurting her eyes. That was what it was. It had to be, with the way her vision was blurring, like she had opened her eyes underwater. It surely had nothing to do with Hatori confessing to her and asking to date her, a consideration she had never actually entertained and especially not when she’d just wanted to ensure that he had a vivid winter memory that wouldn’t remind him of Kana.

But apparently he’d decided to make one of his own, and now he was leaning in closer, brushing a concerned thumb under her eye. 

“I apologize, I’m still not very good at this. I also meant to tell you that I like your hair like this. It’s very sensible.”

Mayuko’s laugh trembled and probably sounded stupid, but she couldn’t help it. “P-please shut up. Fine. Yes. I’ll date you.”

The soft smile Hatori gave her in response was enough to make her legs feel wobbly— or maybe she was shivering because it was _cold_ and they were getting snowed on, so with a groan, Mayuko grabbed at his hand and tugged him forward into a brisk walk. 

“Aaaah, for making me cry, I’m just gonna blow my nose in your scarf!”

“Please don’t.”

She had tried for a change and Hatori had outdone her. It was still too early to say what she would and wouldn’t regret.

But their fingers pressed together as they hurried for a warmer location, and the way Hatori had said her nickname after so long… that, Mayuko _knew_ she’d never regret.


End file.
